Poetry Writing Unit Platoon Four, Youth Corrections Center

Poetry Writing Unit

Platoon Four, Youth Corrections Center

The drill instructor frowns over each

poem he takes

into his thick fingers

says nothing

does not react

each poem only

one more drill

each naked head one more

cadet

learning his lessons

all the heads

are shaved alike

and, except for hair

or skin color,

a defining scar

or peculiar constellation

of acne,

they will only

leave this place

in perfect unison

with nothing whatsoever

to say

but, Yes Sir.